Alone
by Sittingonthis
Summary: Patsy deals with "father issues". One shot. Reviews are very much welcome and encouraged.
Delia had to admit to herself that it was always a little fun to see her girlfriend flustered. It happened so rarely in public that Patience Mount allowed herself to get worked up. Of course, in private Delia knew that her girlfriend had a fire that could burn the whole world down. But in the view of everyone else she was often seen as a bit of an emotional enigma.

However today was not one of those days.

Delia arrived in their shared room at Nonnatus to discover Patience Mount flinging clothing items here and there in a very humorous fashion. She suppressed a giggle as she stood in the door frame watching as Patsy buried herself in her wardrobe.

"Need some help Pats?" Delia smirked.

"How is it that I have so many clothes and yet nothing to wear" Patsy moaned. "It's most inconvenient" she flung herself on to her single bed and whinged.

"Now come on Pats" Delia entered the room and moved toward her girlfriend's wardrobe. "It's just your Dad" she sighed. Patsy had gotten a card a few days ago. It was her father's modus operandi to summon her whenever he was in town. There was a shareholder's meeting so it seemed that his presence was required in London. Of course, this meant that he was obligated to meet with his only daughter Patsy. She explained it as such to Delia in bitter tones. The accompaniment of a cigarette as she told her made it clear that this was not to be argued.

Delia Busby had grown up with a close relationship with her own dad. Her father had let her climb trees, and not pushed her to court boys. With his draper's shop taken care of by his eldest son, he had eagerly paid for her to attend nursing school in London. "Everyone should have the ability to follow the wind of fate" he had assured her as she left small Pembroke for The Big Smoke.

At the same time, Delia understood that Patsy's relationship with her father was not the same in the slightest. It became apparent over time to the brunette that it was "complicated". She knew that Patsy didn't care in the slightest about background, class, or position. However, Delia was not naive enough to believe that there wasn't a distinction in level between herself and Patience Mount.

At nursing school it had already gone around that Patience Mount was a "toff". Cold, aloof, and better than the rest of us was the common gossip. Being a boarding school girl, there were many that had assumed that this one aspect had defined Patsy's character. Delia had heard the worst of the jealous gossip about the woman before they had even met. And yet the brunette had felt such an utter pull towards the plummy blonde. She just had to get to know her. There was something in her reserve and guardedness that Delia recognized. Even if they could not be romantically involved than at least she wouldn't be alone. Perhaps Patience Mount could be the one person in this world that understood her completely. She just had to take that chance. So one night she had kissed Patsy Mount on the lips rather than the cheek. Soon one kiss turned into hours of kissing, and then Delia had learned that she was right.

Later after several dates and nights of Scotch, Patsy had explained her past and her lack of family relations. Her father was always in a port somewhere, she had stopped keeping track of his location at age 14. In an emergency, she could always contact her aunt in Hampstead who would take her in or aid her in escape.

"It's just what the upper classes do Deels. He dropped me off at boarding school, every father does the same" she explained while exhaling cigarette smoke. While Delia didn't really understand, she knew that Patsy was affected by the cards that she received at Christmas & her birthday. These were placed inside her box of memories underneath her bed. Delia had learned not to go near it, for it contained the utter depths of Patsy's heart both dark and hidden.

Still, she had been with Patsy when she opened the card that had been sent in the mail. Having read it, the redhead instantly set it down, and grabbed her pack of smokes from the side table. As she opened up a side window and lit up, Delia smirked.

"A little early Pats? It's not even 10 in the morning" Delia digged at her girlfriend.

Patsy sighed and exhaled a stream of smoke out onto the street.

"Deels, it looks like we'll have to go to the pictures some other time. I've been summoned by father" Patsy pouted.

At the time Delia had been ever so disappointed. She had finally gotten Pats to agree to see Bye Bye Birdie, although she was suspicious of Delia's interest in Ann Margret. She had gotten Barbara to go with her instead, but not without laying it on thick about the message of the film being "the horrors of celebrity". Still, she hated missing out on any precious moment that her and Pats could be together.

Also she wondered if Patsy was ever going to introduce her to Mr. Mount. They had had several meals with her mam and eldest brother whenever they were in town. And yet, her girlfriend always begged off Delia attending these rare occasions when father and daughter met up at Claridge's. Patsy insisted that her presence wasn't asked for or needed. Patsy begged her not to make too much of it, but that didn't quell her insecurity. Just because her and Patsy were queer didn't mean that she didn't feel that certain formalities were required. Meeting each other's parents seemed to fit the bill. Still she had learned not to push Patsy on certain issues and that included her father.

So she now sat and watched her girlfriend have a high grade fashion meltdown.

"You know it's these times that I miss Trixie" Patsy half smiled. Trixie had chosen to stay in Africa until things were settled at Hope Mission leaving the redhead without a roommate or fashion stylist. "She always knew what to wear so easily" Patsy sighed.

"So that's why you always looked so..." Delia chuckled "I always wondered why you looked so much more put together after moving here" she concluded.

"Yes, Trixie could so easily make something out of nothing" Patsy smiled. "Do I really look alright?" she asked looking nervous.

"Pats" Delia hushed her voice to a whisper and squeezed her girlfriend's hand "Any father should be proud of a daughter such as you _"_. She leaned in closer so that her and no one else could possibly hear. "You really are a sort of angel, if only everyone knew" she whispered into Patsy's ear.

* * *

As was their habit, Patsy smoked at least one cigarette before she went in to Claridge's. She knew that her father would be inside waiting for her, but she needed to steady her nerves. Over the years, father and daughter had created their own routine.

Drinks, appetizers, main course, dessert, and done. It echoed their first meal alone together after she had been picked up from the hospital after the war. At that time she had been barely able to speak and could only manage soup. They hadn't spoken much then, which hadn't changed much over the years. He would ask about school (later it was training or work) and she would say that it was "challenging but rewarding". She would feign interest in whatever place he had last traveled. Conversation would trickle out and each would leave separately.

This time however Patsy knew that she would have to bring up a difficult topic. And as she finished her cigarette she knew that she was just playing her usual game of avoidance.

"Sod it, she told herself. Just get in there already Patsy" she chastised herself.

Her father rose from the table as she arrived albeit slower than usual.

"Father" she greeted him. He nodded and offered the seat opposite him where she sat.

"I feared you were held up, Patience" he furrowed his brow.

"No, it was just the bus was running late" she explained.

"I really wish you would just let me buy you a car dear" he admonished her.

"As I've said, there's no need. And at work everyone rides bicycles" she said closing down the topic.

They ordered and made small talk. Patsy had always remembered her father as seeming old. He was not one of those young dads who taught you how to ride a bicycle or play kick about with a football. Her mother had been 18 when they had married, however she had never bought the romanticized tale of their whirlwind romance. Her head put together the all too familiar tale of a rich man in need of a wife like his brothers. Perhaps even the hope of a son to pass along his exporting business to run.

Instead he had gotten one daughter who had survived and no interest whatsoever in shipping at all.

As the desserts were taken away, Patsy geared herself up. Taking a deep breath she settled her nerves as she often told her patients.

"Father" she hesitated as he nodded. "I have something to ask you. And I beg you not to interrupt me before I get it out" she said softly.

"Whatever could it be Patience?" her father said as he sorted out the bill.

"Father, I was hoping that I could get the ring from grandmother" she asked with as much confidence as she could muster. Her father looked away for a moment and took a sip of his scotch.

"You do know dear, what that ring was meant for?" he asked in a hushed tone.

She nodded.

"Yes, I know. And I don't take it lightly" she paused. "If you just met her then you would see…" she stopped herself having exposed perhaps too much of her intentions.

"Patience" he paused picking his words carefully. "Are you sure of this?" he asked.

The redhead looked her father directly in the eyes without blinking.

"Yes" she answered.

Her father looked around as he seemed perplexed as to how to combat such assuredness in his daughter. Patsy could see confusion in his eyes and she understood it. She reached over the table and took his hand.

"Father, she makes me happy and whole" she said softly.

Her father visibly shrank from such an admission of emotion from his daughter. Pulling his hand away he reached for the arms of his chair. Patsy could see that he needed an anchor to keep him afloat. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his cigarette case and rose from his chair.

"I need some air, Patience. Will you join me on the balcony?" she nodded. They both rose and headed toward the outside air and found the emptiest area. Looking over the evening lights she found her own packet. Father and daughter lit their own cigarettes. It was one of the few things they both shared in common.

"That's better" he sighed under his breath. Her father turned toward her. "Patience, I admit that you are a mystery to me. But then again I never really understood your mother either. Still this deviancy from the norm... Are you sure that this has nothing to do with what happened to you?" he asked unable to look her in the eyes.

Patsy felt her spine instantly stiffen.

"Father, don't you think that I haven't thought of it" she sighed.

"And you never talked to that doctor that I referred you?" he replied.

"The talking cure isn't going to fix me. And I don't want to change anyway" she answered resigned. "Delia makes me feel like myself, Father. I don't have to be anyone else for her. We make our own normal" she spoke earnestly.

Smoking quietly, neither father or daughter looked at each other. Patsy desperately tried to find a way to make the ground open up beneath her. Finally, her father snubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. He turned toward his daughter with a slight smile on his lips.

"I have to fetch the ring from the bank deposit box where everything is stored. That will take a day or two" he responded. "I'll ring you to make arrangements" he turned to go back inside.

"Father, you can just mail it over" she responded as he exited the balcony. He stopped before they came to the door inside. His aristocratic tone was as commanding as her father ever got, which only slightly betrayed his upper class roots.

"No Patience, I think it's time I saw this convent where you live and meet this Welsh friend of yours" he insisted.

Without any dispute, Patsy simply nodded whereas inside she was screaming. Her father was coming for a visit. Oh dear.

* * *

Patsy had never expected it to happen. So, when a card arrived in the post a week later she was not surprised. She went to her room to open the letter, sure and yet unsure about it's contents. After reading the few lines within she dropped the letter on her bed and didn't bother with the rest. Instead she went for her pack and lit up as she opened the window ajar.

She also dug out her bottle of Scotch that she had hidden from Trixie under her pajamas in the wardrobe. Pouring herself a tumblr she stared out the window silently. Normally she never drank during the day, unless on social occasions, but she didn't care for propriety at the moment. Delia was out shopping with Barbara and Trixie was on call. She rubbed the cool glass to her forehead, as if it could cool her resentment. She sighed as she blew a stream of smoke outside the window.

Alone. She was always alone.

* * *

At the window was where Delia found her girlfriend when she returned. They had cruised the high street to splurge on dresses to impress. Barbara found something for her next date with Tom that was as chaste and demure as their romance. Delia tried not to be too hard on the sweet girl, but still she wondered if the girl would ever dare to go beyond heavy petting. Or wear anything that actually showed some leg above her own knee. However they had had a great time, and the brunette did find a dress for next Tuesday when Mr. Mount was meant to come visit.

When Patsy had first told her, she thought that her girlfriend was having her on. She made it clear that it was a cruel joke indeed. However, by some miracle it was not. It seemed very sentimental but to her it was as if they were turning a corner. As much as everyone else in the world wanted to make it like her relationship was abnormal, it was actually quite the same as everyone else. Delia wanted to meet Patsy's father and gain his blessing. Much like she dragged Patsy to have tea with her mother, she wanted to believe that Mr. Mount approved of her as a partner in his daughter's life. Such a chance was not to be taken lightly.

She knew that it excited Patsy as well. Her girlfriend made so many claims to being independent and strong and self-sufficient, but everyone needed their parent's love. Everyone needed to be accepted by somebody. It was why Delia had finally gotten Pats to go to Gateways. She had made her understand that everybody needed to feel as if they could be invisible. As if they were just like any other couple.

She knew that Patsy had really needed this.

And now looking into Patsy's face, she felt her despair.

"What's wrong darling?" she asked compassionately.

"The letter's on the bed" Patsy answered coldly and gestured toward the bed.

The redhead didn't move from her position as Delia read the brief and efficient message contained within the missive. She sighed as her shoulders fell.

"So he's not coming" she said despondently.

"Apparently not" Patsy said emotionless.

Delia spared no time in crossing the room to get as close as she could to her girlfriend. She knew the dead look in Patsy's eyes. The tone in her voice spoke volumes. Still she didn't know how to comfort her as she so desperately wanted to do right at that moment. Trixie could come home at anytime...or Barbara...or a nun...Really, it was just impossible. Delia settled for an embrace where she could lean into Patsy's ears.

"He's a damn fool" she whispered.

"Someday, I'll believe that" Patsy whispered back.

They stood embraced for a moment. Her girlfriend leaning into her, needing her for support, it was what Delia lived off. Patience Mount could be the strongest woman in all of Poplar to many, but Delia knew that everyone needed a shoulder sometimes. And she could be Patsy's. Always.

* * *

A few days later, a parcel arrived for Miss Patience Mount at Nonnatus House. Patsy was even there to sign for it, as it was considered a "special delivery". She took it and ran upstairs, hoping to avoid any prying eyes.

Opening the box she discovered a simple gold ring with an emerald at the center. Turning the antique ring over in her fingers delicately (despite the fact that it was strong as pure gold could be) she remembered this very ring on her grandmother's fingers. It had been before the war. Even before they had left England for Singapore- it was the last time that she had seen her grandmother alive. She had been fascinated by the green stone at the center and how it glinted in the summer sun.

"Patience, stop reaching" her mother had exclaimed frustratedly trying to hold her grasping hands back.

"No it's fine" her grandmother "Go ahead Patience" she had urged.

Taking her grandmother's fragile hands in her own, all she could focus on was the magnificent stone set at the middle of the pure gold band. They twisted around her grandmother's fragile fingers as if they had always been there.

Pulling the ring off her finger she held it so that everyone could see. "Your grandfather as a boy visited an enchanted woman within the forest and she gave him this very stone here" she pointed to the emerald at the center.

"But the witch just gave it to him without any payment in return? That's just not good commerce" her father had smirked.

"Why is it that you think that your father has no hair my boy? Everything comes at a price" she chortled.

"So our proclivity toward male hair loss is finally explained" he said sardonically as he returned to the paper.

Her grandmother then leaned in so close so that their heads nearly collided.

"Do not forget Patience. Whomever you marry, be sure that they are filled with the qualities of this stone. For they are of more worth than the gold setting altogether" she had intoned like a sage.

Her head had argued that it was only an old ring, which meant very little unless imbued with nostalgia or sentiment. She still clung to it. It represented a world that only lived vividly in her own mind. This ring had come back to her when she believed that she'd never see it again. The similarity in circumstance between the ring and it's intended were not lost on Patsy.

She noticed the card included in the parcel. It was only a few lines, however she noted her father's measured script.

'"I am sorry Patience. If only I weren't the one to continuously let you down. Someday I will be as brave, strong, and kind, as you are. You continue to inspire and deserve the very best." It ended with his common salutations and promises of a reunion soon.

Again she let the card fall to her bed and sighed.

She understood her father's reticence and avoidance because in many ways it matched her own. Maybe it was time that she not allow him the convenience.

* * *

After a few months, her father arrived in London again. As per usual, a card arrived summoning her, and arrangements were made.

This time, however. she insisted that Delia would attend with her.

Delia had been to what she considered fancy places before, still she often felt out of place in them. Inevitably she knew that she would drop a fork or laugh a little too loud for the room. She was always considered brave, but she was terrified of embarrassing her girlfriend. As much as Patsy tried to reassure her it did stir a panic inside her chest as they entered the high class restaurant together.

Looking around the room she sought out Mr. Mount. Among the high class ladies, she finally found whom Patsy had described to her long ago. He was unlike many of the richest lot that she had served as a nurse in that she noted no pomposity about him. Mr. Mount stood in an impeccable tweed suit with a black tie. A starch collar stood stiff around his throat, with a grey walrus mustache. He looked like a college professor rather than a man who traveled the world. His toff accent reflected his class, as did his newly shined Italian leather shoes. Delia noticed his soft hands when she took them upon first introduction. Patsy's father was a man who had never wielded more than a pen and paper, Delia reflected. And yet she looked into his eyes and saw a weariness. He was polite and yet nervously didn't know what to do with his hands. It was hard to see any of her girlfriend in this man who claimed to be her father.

"My daughter and your accent tells me that you are from Wales. Whereabouts? I must confess that I only know the ports" he began.

"Father you only know the ports of the entire world" Patsy smirked.

He shrugged admitting defeat.

As he sipped his tea, Delia began speaking of Pembroke, her parents, and childhood. It was a subject that she could easily wax lyrically on all evening. It was easy to feel the warmth of her memories, which eased her own nerves.

"Still you have chosen London, it would seem that you could just as easily be a nurse closer to home?" he asked.

"The best nurses are here" and she turned toward her girlfriend "and well, Pats is here. So, I had to be here, sir" she said with an unshakeable certainty. The adoration in each woman's eyes was unmistakable. He nodded in the face of such steady devotion.

As Patsy began telling of the latest dramas at Nonnatus, Delia noticed Mr. Mount's eyes on her hands. Self-consciously, she lowered them beneath the table. Finding Patsy's hand there hidden, she gave her a soft squeeze. It grounded her and settled her nerves to know that Patsy was there as steady as ever. She saw strength and calm in her girlfriend's eyes as Mr. Mount again took over the conversation. Delia reached for her dessert which looked far too fancy to be real, much less devoured.

Patsy excused herself for a moment, leaving Delia alone with her father. She was slightly terrified, but it seemed like tonight was going well. She hadn't really stepped her foot in her mouth. Mr. Mount was not nearly as challenging as her own mam about their relationship. She was sure that he knew about them, Patsy had indicated it on several occasions that evening. However, it seemed to be a common understanding between Patsy and her father that it wasn't to be remarked upon at all. Not necessarily approved of, however not to be discussed openly. It rankled her and yet she supposed it was a matter of class since Patsy tended to be the same way.

"May I ask you something sir?" she ventured. He nodded and waited for her. "Why do you keep looking at my hands? Specifically my left one?" she challenged him.

Clearing his throat he seemed surprised and uneasy by her brazenness. He surveyed the room and then came back to where Delia was seated facing him.

"The ring" he said lowly and indicated the ring that resided on her left hand. Patsy had given it to her as a gift and Delia cherished it.

"Do you know that it was my grandmothers?" he asked.

She nodded. Patsy had told her what it meant and it's significance to her. She considered it a match to her grandmother's wedding band that Patsy wore on her left hand. It was as close to wedding rings as they were ever going to get in each woman's mind.

"Yes she's told me. We tell each other everything" she replied.

"Yes, I believe that you do" he smiled. Pausing for a moment he seemed to consider his words carefully. "My daughter is special Miss Busby. Unfortunately I know that I have not been worthy of her. I fear that I have left her too alone in this world" he sighed resigned.

"May I be honest sir?" he nodded for her to go on "If it is in my power Mr. Mount, she will never be alone" she said with all the earnestness of her soul.

Mr. Mount looked her straight in the eyes and she did not waver. He was the first to break their standoff as his daughter approached the table.

"Should I fear what you two are talking about so intently?" she said sardonically.

"No, Patience we were simply debating whether Wales had a chance in 66'. I don't think so" he smirked.

Patsy visibly rolled her eyes.

"Oh god. Sports" she audibly scoffed in mock disdain.

"Still Patience, I think that Delia here may be winning me over" he relayed as he paid the bill.

They each emerged that night a little more assured of the future than they had been. Unable to openly express her happiness Delia lived on the love that she saw projected in her lover's eyes. It was a few months later and Patsy had received a letter in the mail.

"Deels, my father wants to know all about whether you think Wales will beat Northern Ireland" she said exasperated.

"I tell you Pats, every man cares about football" she smirked.

Casting a careful look around, Patsy sidled next to her girlfriend.

"You know that I love you completely" she nuzzled into Delia's neck.

"I know love" she replied softly.


End file.
